When I was a young skateboarder, I subscribed to Thrasher Magazine. I’d read that shit front to back. I’d read the letters, I’d read the music section, I read the reviews, the interviews and I’d even read the insanely incoherent articles about contests and shit. The best part, however, was the recipes. The recipes in Thrasher were so fucking ridiculously disgusting, on purpose, I now realize, but I bought into the whole post-modernism of it and actually prepared and consumed a few choice meals. This led to a strange phenomenon where I made myself believe I liked very disgusting things.
One of my favorite snacks was an uncooked hotdog, a pickle and some cheese in a hard taco shell covered in salsa. I ate that shit all the time. Looking back, was it gross? Actually I don’t even remember it as being gross. It sounds good to me still. I know, intellectually that it’s gross, but man, I used to LOVE that shit. I think it’s affected me to this day, as I’m still pretty capable of eating anything, and I’ll happily eat tuna right from the can or a whole jar of peanut butter just with a spoon. As long as there’s no ketchup, and there’s not too much mayonnaise (which I’ll get to in a sec) I’m down. Is this from my young, experimental days as a budding young chef? Only Jesus knows, I guess.
A side note on mayonnaise:
Okay, Mayonnaise is gross. If you don’t think so, you are gross. This is an inarguable point. Please understand, this isn’t a value judgment about people who eat mayonnaise. It’s just the facts, ma’am. When I go out, I never specify that I want mayonnaise on anything, because it’s gross. However, if a sandwich or something just COMES with mayo, I’m secretly pleased. Why? Because the shit’s fucking delicious, man. Oh, it’s disgusting, make no mistake, and I’d never specifically request it, and too much of it is about as repulsive as it gets, and fuck, it’s bad for you, BUT, if you know in your heart that mayo in moderation improves, for example, a turkey sandwich. Yes it does, you bullshitter! You, like me, have been so conditioned by your societal and subcultural standards that you’ve let yourself believe that it’s so gross that you don’t like it, but you DO. Secretly, YOU DO!!!!!!!
But I will concede that it’s disgusting. Oh, and guys, gals; rule of thumb: Never, ever order something with mayonnaise if you’re dealing with someone who you’re attempting to fuck/suck off/feel the tits of. It’s not classy. It’s like farting. Someday, if things work out, it’ll be cool, but at this embryonic stage, show a little self-restraint. Anyone that overlooks your bowl of mayonnaise or greasy farts during a courtship is not good enough for you. Period. End of story.
Now, getting back to the recipes in Thrasher, I was so young and dumb that I believed sincerely that these recipes were what skaters ate, and I so desperately wanted to be part of something that I ate it too, regardless of grossness. This is not dissimilar to the way that I tried, right around the same time (12-18) to force myself to like bands that I thought were “important” or ‘cool’ or ‘necessary.’ I mean, I spent more time trying to get into stupid, terrible bands that I really had no aesthetic interest in. Mostly hardcore, metal, funk, terrible punk and shit like that. I tried to like Primus…I tried to like Youth of Today and I tried to like The Accused and Instead and Bold and all that shit. (Burn, however, was awesome-that EP totally killed me.)
I can’t even remember now all the tapes I had that I just needed, NEEDED to get into. Suicidal Tendencies. Oh, how I tried. Problem is, they’re terrible. There’s no way to spitshine any of these bullshit garbage records. AND, and this is a big part of all this, once I became a “punk” if I found a band that was tolerable, and yet still off everyone’s radar, I decided that they’d be my favorite band, just for the sort of je ne sais quoi of the whole thing. That’s how come I know every word to Underdog’s breakthrough album “the vanishing point” even though it’s TERRIBLE, if I listen back to it now.
This, if I’m really being honest with myself, I think may be the reason that a lot of people like my band. We’re off everyone’s radar (your friend that likes Against Me! and Daughtry isn’t gonna like us) but we’re just barely good enough that you can make yourself get into it. That’s what it is, innit? Thought so.
Hey, it’s not all like that though. Bands like Bad Brains and Fugazi really DID take a bunch of listens to click with me, and I’m glad I stuck it out, because those are two pretty awesome bands. You never know when a song doesn’t quite grab you if you’re dealing with a Sailin’ On or an Institutionalized. Gotta do the legwork.
Speaking of, I’m starving and my baby is awake. Later dildos.